πŸ“š pmu: damian's story Part 10 of 22
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SCIENCE FICTION FANTASY

Pmu Damians Story Ch 10

Pmu Damians Story Ch 10

by rocetgrunt
19 min read
4.71 (4900 views)
adultfiction

A surprising amount of information is simply not available on the internet. Some of it was hidden behind paywalls or passwords as a form of deliberate obscurantism to lock information away from the undeserving or the underpaid; but equally many ideas had vanished from the internet or never been transcribed there at all. Despite, or perhaps

because

of the importance of Pokegirls, much of the most important information about them was not available on the internet. At least, not available in any reliable or accessible form. And so it was that where Damian would regularly do all of his reading for high-school classes online, he now found himself in the library to check out physical books about Pokegirl evolution. He wanted to upgrade Beatrice's "Girl" class to literally anything else, and the musings to be found online were somewhere between conspiratorial nonsense and just regular nonsense.

The librarian was a tall redheaded woman with a tall hairdo and tall heels, and she stood tall and straight at a tall standing desk. She had wide glasses and wide hips, and her long green dress had a deep V-neck to show the substantial depth of her cleavage without showing anything so compromising as a knee. She looked over the top of her glasses at Damian and sneered. "Nice jacket. Who shot the couch?" She turned back to her computer and continued whatever it was that she had been doing as if his presence meant nothing at all.

Damian asked for books that could describe how to evolve his Pokegirls, and after pretending to ignore him long enough that he had to ask again, the librarian broke down and directed him to a tome called

The Rules of Ruin

, which he collected and brought to a reading desk. Sitting down to read, he was struck by what a complicated system it was. The evolution of a Pokegirl's classes could affect their strengths and weaknesses, as well as their Corruption effects. But then certain directions of evolution had specific requirements that varied on the classes of the Pokegirl. Much ink was splattered in discussion of what could be done with Pathetic and Shabby Pokegirls to evolve them into the Atrocious and Beautiful, but that was not his problem and he ended up skipping and skimming quite a bit.

His reading took him down a rabbit hole almost immediately. There was a concept of

Pimping

, where some Pokegirls advanced by being shared sexually with other trainers by their trainer. The ur-example was that of the Geodame, a kind of Rock Pokegirl that did not have any arms. Evolution could add arms onto the Geodame, but only if her owner traded her sexually to another trainer. There were several kinds of Geodames: the Venus, the Caryatid, the Moai, the Colossahead, and the Bustonak; but all of them needed to be "pimped out" before they could regain the anatomically human arms they had before becoming Pokegirls. It seemed that there were lots of kinds of Pokegirls that needed to be pimped out in order to advance in some important way, but none of them were Poison Bee Girls as far as he could tell.

There were also evolutions that could be triggered by magic stones. It unfortunately wasn't as simple as a magic water stone advancing a water aspected Pokegirl. But there was apparently a mega stone for Bees that was necessary but not sufficient to grant a substantial power boost to Bee classed Pokegirls. It wasn't immediately obvious to Damian what the other part of that evolution was, the layout of the book wasn't great.

The thing he was really looking for was quite deep in the manual, and he only got there by page flipping and spot-reading. There were paths in the book to go from Girl to Artist, Sensei, Witch, or Warrior. Unfortunately, it wasn't a path, but several paths for each class. Meaning that the way a Poison Bee Girl might evolve into a Witch was different than how a Long Legs Spider Girl might evolve into a Witch. He noticed that he was already thinking of Hinako as his slave, despite not having captured her yet, and he wasn't sure whether to congratulate himself for forward planning or chastise himself for hubris. Either way, as he looked more carefully, he wasn't sure if either of the bugs could evolve into Witches by the means in the book. It looked like there was Dark Magic, Fairy Magic, Psychic Magic, and Energy Magic; with each having a different means of increasing mana by becoming a Witch rather than a Girl. Damian himself was aspected to dark magic, but Beatrice wasn't aspected to any of the kinds of magic. Other paths looked more promising. "Beatrice," he asked her, "it looks like there might be a way to make you an Artist or a Warrior. Do you have a preference?"

"Nnnnnggg." She hummed nasally while she thought it over. "I think I can be of more use to you as a Warrior." She said it with sincerity, as if that settled things. Although in Damian's opinion, she hadn't answered the question. He was going to probe deeper when two women sat down at a different desk to peruse a large blue codex together. And apparently also to gossip.

"Rush week is in three weeks. Which sorority are you going to try to join?" Despite it being a library, they weren't being especially quiet. Damian hadn't noticed any signs admonishing people to

be

quiet. The desks all had multiple chairs, which he had thought was so that students could sit with their Pokegirls, but perhaps the reading desks were places that people were

expected

to converse?

He looked over at the women, unsure of which one had spoken. Both had black hair, but one came about it from being East Asian, while the other achieved her glossy black hair through Central American heritage. They were dressed in jeans and tight shirts, which could have been outfits chosen for casual comfort or to go out dancing at a hip hop or country western club. "That's not how it works. All four sororities interview you

together

, and then any that want you send a bid." It was the Asian woman who was lecturing, indicating the other woman must have asked the question. "Each day of rush week, you talk to members of each sorority and they give you tests or make you do presentations, and a certain number of women get invited back to the next day. On the last day, each sorority separately decides whether you'd be a good fit or not. If you impress everyone, you might get four invites, but you might get only one or two. Or none at all. And you might not get the one you want."

Damian did his best to ignore the talking women.

He

had no intention of rushing a sorority. But he also had schoolwork to do, so he handed

The Rules of Ruin

to Beatrice and took the Tough Core textbook out of his bag. It was quite heavy, probably needlessly so. The syllabus wanted them reading ten chapters per week, which sounded insane until he realized that a "chapter" was generally only three pages long,

and

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there were pictures. The first day's readings were a brief overview of corruption, humiliation, and degradation, three concepts that sounded like they were linked but actually were not. Corruption was the mystical effect that made Pokegirls into monsters, and which potentially made trainers into Pokegirls. Humiliation was a mismatch between circumstances and pride. The Degradation chapter concluded with the statement "Successful degradation can reduce both humiliation and corruption!" It was accompanied by a photo of a naked and collared Pokegirl happily licking a white fluid off the floor. Whether the fluid was supposed to be milk, cum, or even glue, it was not the kind of illustration that Damian had ever seen in a class textbook.

The other discussion again intruded on Damian's attention. "But if you don't intend to join a hunting team, why would you even

want

to join ΚΚ΀?" The Hispanic woman had questions. "If you're not looking for your MRS degree, why join ΑβΩ? ΔΝ has government and business contacts, and ΞΌΟ€ has high placed witches in sorcery and industry, but even those don't have universal appeal. Why bother having girls audition for all the sororities when almost everyone who wants to join a sorority has a clear preference?"

Damian expected the Asian woman to give a rambling diatribe about how joining a sorority wasn't about getting a fantastic job right out of college by having sorority sisters in your field who would let you start your career on third base, but instead about making real connections with women with common interests. Women who could be lifelong friends, and almost real sisters. Women who only

incidentally

could pull strings to get their sorority sisters an interview with upper management or a high-end hunter team. His expectations were not disappointed, and because of that, he was able to tune it out and get back to reading. He read six chapters ahead in the Tough Core textbook, which according to the syllabus meant he had done the reading through to the following week. Then, since Beatrice was still humming and puzzling over advancement options, he started skipping ahead to read random chapters. Some of them seemed like they were pretty specific, and there were topics that had multiple chapters. "OTM 2: Locking in Consent," "Bruises 3: A Source of Resentment," and "Threat Escalation 1: Promises Kept." They didn't make as much sense to him as the earlier chapters, and he wasn't sure if it was because he had reached the end of his attention span or if the later parts of the textbook had more challenging material.

Putting the book down, and leaning back into his chair, Damian was no longer able to ignore the nearby conversation. Apparently one of the sororities would give "omega bids" where a pledge would join the sorority explicitly as the collared bitch of one of the other sisters. This was, according to the women, a great way to get collar-married to a wealthy trainer. He was so glad when Beatrice seemed to have found something she liked. "What is it?" He leaned in, and his slave affectionately snuggled her side-boob into him and her gossamer wings tapped him repeatedly on the back.

She pointed to a description of a brief dance that could be performed with a blade in each hand. "It says that performing the Swords Dance allows one to increase mettle by becoming a Warrior, as well as its immediate effect of preparing one's self to do deadly damage. I think I could do this dance." Beatrice's jaw was set in determination, and her eyes looked exactly the same as they always did. Unsure of how good her memory was, Damian took a picture of the page with his Pokedex, and returned the book to the librarian's waiting eyeroll.

Damian had to return to his dorm room. First of all, because that was where his bed was and he'd have to sleep eventually, but also because he'd made a deal with Adelaide to work on the math problems together. They were due the next day, so the time they had left was counted on the clock rather than the calendar. When Damian and Beatrice entered the room, they saw that Adelaide was naked on her bed, her sopping cunt being feasted upon by her slave Willow. Lost as they were in the reverie of their coupling, they didn't even

notice

Damian and his own slave enter the room.

The Frog woman groaned and her fingers tangled themselves into the sheets while her slave

worshiped between her thighs. "Willow?" She got her slaves attention. Truthfully, she already

had

her slave's attention, but by calling her name she diverted that attention from her pussy to her voice. "When we were in high-school, I would have done anything just to be near you. If you'd asked me to carry your books or kiss your feet, I would have done it. You could have stripped me in front of your friends and I would have begged and masturbated for your enjoyment. I used to dream about us being together, but even in my dreams I could only imagine you putting an engagement collar on me, for you to make me your bitch-wife. I came so many times to that dream." She disentangled her fingers from the sheet, and tangled them into Willow's hair.

Adelaide pulled the Dryad's head up, so that her lust-lidded eyes could gaze into the giant orbs of her mistress. "It's funny how things turn out, isn't it Willow? I have my dream girl, but

she's

going to take

my

collar. Would you like that? Would you like me to get you an engagement collar? It's not unusual for trainers to marry their slaves. Would you like to be my wife? My dreams of a collar-marriage to you can still come true, even though now the ring would be on my hand and the collar would be on your neck." It wasn't as binary a choice as Adelaide was making it out to be. Damian's aunts both wore marriage collars, having submitted to each other at their wedding, so it wouldn't be

that

strange for Adelaide and Willow to romantically collar each other. Still, some people had more traditional views of dommes and subs, and thought a collar-marriage had to have one ring and one collar.

Tears formed in Willow's eyes. "Yes! Yes Mistress, yes!" She kissed her mistress on the clit, and then did it again. "We were such bitches to you Mistress, I 'm so glad you would let me be your bitch-

wife

in addition to just your bitch-

slave

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." She showered Adelaide's groin with joyful kisses. "But... We were

all

bitches to you. Megan, Jenny, even Taylor. And now... we could enslave them all." Willow fingered her own neck, imagining the possibilities of how Adelaide's ownership of her could be locked on it. "All four of us. The whole group. All kneeling before you, collared in servitude to Mistress Addie. Once they know what a powerful owner-pussy you have, they will realize that they have slave-pussies good for nothing but submission to their mistress."

Damian recognized that the seeds he had planted in Willow's mind had already grown into beautiful flowers of submissive fantasies. He also recognized that the love potion must have been super effective on the Dryad, because she had progressed quite far into enthusiastic servitude since Adelaide had brewed the stuff. He couldn't tell whether Adelaide was considering these ideas at all, because Willow's babbling about enslaving her friends had been too much for the trainer. The Frog woman pushed her slave's face between her legs and energetically humped herself to a croaking orgasm. The two of them collapsed together, Willow's arms holding onto her owner's waist.

Damian felt a little bit awkward, so he sat on his own bed and started reading The May Saga. The language was dense and unfamiliar, like it had been written generations ago. Which, of course, it had. Damian tried to get into the rhythm of the text, remembering his teacher's "DAH-duh-duhs," or at least the shaking of her breasts while she did that. Thinking of Professor Baker - Ellen as she insisted on being called - and her shaking tits did absolutely nothing to keep his mind focused on the words on the page. Beatrice sat in almost perfect stillness, her eyes may have been watching Damian or perhaps the other women in the room, but as always they betrayed nothing.

Adelaide gently pet Willow's head and cooed in bliss for quite a while before she realized that they weren't alone in the room. "Oh," she sat up quickly and covered her modest breasts with her hands, "um... long have you been there?"

Freed from the rules of propriety that had kept them on their side of the room during the carnal relations, Beatrice flew over to Willow, who was still dressed in sweat rather than clothing. "You're gonna marry your owner?!" The Bee Girl buzzed with excitement.

The Plant Fairy blushed an autumn hue. "Yeah. I guess I am." Beatrice squeed. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and soon Willow was smiling ear to ear, metaphorically. Not

literally

ear to ear like Carla. "I'm... I'm going to marry my owner!" The two Pokegirls clasped hands together and bounced up and down in excitement.

"And you're gonna help your mistress enslave your best friends! They can be your bridesmaids, all collared and shackled while they watch your engagement collar replaced with a marriage collar. Each of them helplessly moistening their slave cunts while you get elevated above them to slave-wife." Beatrice was so happy and enthusiastic that you might think she was planning her own collar-wedding.

Willow was more than happy to enlarge upon Beatrice's dream-wedding scenario. "And those bitches could be taken to kneel on pillows next to our wedding bed. Megan edging herself while Mistress Addie fucking

dominates

me for my first slave fucking as a married woman. Taylor and Jenny with edging stones shoved up their holes, brought to the edge of sanity but denied release. All of them wondering whether Mistress Addie is going to allow them to cum on our wedding night." Her eyes closed as she lost herself in daydreams of submission and romance.

By this point Adelaide had put a shirt on and sidled up to Damian. "I'm not sure I'll be able to

afford

the fairy tale wedding that she's imagining. Slave pillows?

Edging Stones?!

" She looked genuinely worried. The Pokegirls were Voltroning themselves into Mecha Bridezilla, and she didn't want to disappoint her slave and longstanding crush. Especially now that her slave had agreed to be her fiancΓ©e.

Damian shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it. You love her, and you own her. When you latch the engagement collar on her neck, she's going to cum. And when you take it off and lock the marriage collar onto her neck, she's going to cum for that too. She'll be surrounded by her friends and family, the ones you've enslaved and the ones who are still free, and she's going to have a mindblowing slavegasm right in front of all of them. If you wait until you can afford a big splashy party, it will be something your slave wife cherishes for the rest of her life. But if you get her wedding collar on soon, before you're financially established, it's still something she'll cherish for the rest of her life. Either way, you'll be putting everything you have into establishing your love and ownership of her. It's your

sincerity

, not your bank account, that's going to make her embrace her status as your love slave."

Adelaide just stared at him for a while before responding. "Did you get that speech from a Hallmark-X movie? I mean, thank you for talking me down right there. Intellectually, I

know

that Willow is my sex slave and that I can sexually dominate her as much as I want and she'll be grateful for it. But it still doesn't seem real, you know? Willow and her friends were so high above me for so long, and I wanted to be hers so badly. It's so strange that now she's mine." The last part came out as such a small croak that Damian almost didn't hear it.

"Keep those friends of hers in mind though," Damian speculated, "it sounds like Willow is serious about helping you to take ownership of all three of her friends through their pussies. Soon, all four of them will be yours." She keroed at that pronouncement, but didn't argue. They had mathemagic homework to work on.

When Damian arrived at his Tough Core class, he was several minutes early. Early enough to see Britney bent over the desk while Professor Lorre pounded her cunt with a taming rod. To the limits of his own minimal understanding of such things, the light blue runes on the taming rod meant that it was on a pretty low setting. No more overwhelming than any off-the-rack pleasure stick. Still, from what he'd seen when she first turned it on, the rod could go much harder than she was using it on her teacher's pet. He guessed it was probably a prison-grade taming rod, the kind used to break penal slaves and prisoners of war. The rod seemed to be used at a non-mindbreaking setting, but Damian couldn't help but notice that the teacher was railing Britney

from behind

; meaning that if Professor Lorre did decide to jack up the taming settings, the student wouldn't know until her free will was already being jackhammered out from her cunt. It seemed like a dangerous game that Britney was playing.

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